Broken Toys (A Robo Fizz Romance) (18+)

Chapter 11: The Ultimate Sacrifice

       Fuck. FuckfuckFUCK what do we do?!

As her mind raced, Samara tried her best to think of all the possibilities. If Fizz got captured here and now, she was dead anyway as soon as Mammon learned of it. He'd only bother to rescue her to make sure he had the pleasure of ripping her apart himself before finishing her off. He might not even wait until the next purge. You could find angel weapons on the black market if you looked hard enough and knew the right people, and there was barely a demon better connected than the Greed Demon. His fingers were in so many pots she'd lost count of who owed him what and which companies he owned.

If it was really down to this, then she had to make her peace with it. There was so much she wanted to say, and do, but she was out of options. And she would rather face what was on the other side of death itself than let these jackasses abscond with Fizz, and put him even more into slavery than he already was. She couldn't break Greed's chains, but maybe, just maybe she could save him from this fate at least. While the group of looters was busy celebrating their newfound wealth, Samara's hand slipped to her waist, where she'd tucked Fizzarolli's pistol into her waistband.

Fizz hadn't torn his eyes away from her, and when he saw what she was doing his eyes bugged, but she just shook her head at him.

       'Trust me...' she mouthed.

He didn't need to know just how big of a gamble she was taking; let him think she had a well thought-out plan so he'd be confident enough to strike when he needed to. She was going to give him an opening, she only prayed (to who knew what anymore) that it would be enough.

It had to be.

"Fizz...I'm really glad we made up...that we even met...don't let anyone talk shit about you again, okay?"

She gave him a watery smile, tears already slipping down her cheeks, then gathered up her courage and in one smooth motion, whipped the weapon out, jammed it underneath the chin of her captor and fired.

Bam!

The shot tore through his jaw and all the way through his brain, doing massive damage. The imp was dead before he even fell, but as he did Samara wasn't able to stop his nervous system's last convulsions from jolting his hand, sending the serrated blade into her throat. The razor-sharp edges caught her flesh and sliced. She coughed and spit up blood, collapsing into a crimson puddle that seeped into the dry, splintered wood, which absorbed the liquid greedily in a spreading stain. The pistol clattered to the ground next to her body.

   "NOOO!!! SAMARA!!!"

Robo Fizz screamed, hot rage & ice cold grief fighting inside of him, boiling up until his eyes burned a murderous glowing crimson. He gave them no time to react, spinning into a deadly wheel of metal, spikes, and soon carnage as he sped into the bodies of the nearest imps. Blood and viscera splattered the old tent fabric, the stage, even coated the piano, but Fizz didn't care. He would kill these sons of bitches.

Every. Last. One.

They'd taken Samara from him, so he'd take all of their lives! He'd never even gotten to tell her how he felt! He took down three immediately, but as he was aiming for one of the remaining two he heard the whir if a machine gun and he felt a spray of bullets hit his back. He managed to twist just in time to avoid most of the damage but a few stuck in his joints, or shredded wires, and one even winged his brand new voice box.

"Damn i-it!!"

It seemed like despite their tough appearance, most of this group's plan had hinged on keeping him subdued by using Samara as a captive. With her... out of the way there was nothing holding Fizz back from beautiful, messy revenge. He ripped the gun away from his newest attacker and jammed it down his throat, busting out the bastard's teeth as he stuck the barrel all the way down. He leaned in close and made sure the imp saw the insane sadistic glee on his face. The looter looked terrified and tried to beg and plead through muffled yelling, unable to form a clear word past the obstruction of cold metal in his throat.

       "Night nnni-i-ghttt, little bitch!"

Fizz yanked the trigger back, and listened with satisfaction as the hail of bullets completely shredded through his victim's body, some of them even making it all the way through and putting holes in his floor. His red Loo Loo Land hoodie was soaked through with blood and his pants too. Dripping with bits and pieces of the his unfortunate targets, Fizz turned his attention to the last imp, the leader, who had wisely realized that this was a losing battle and was trying to cut his losses and sneak away in the chaos.

"Ah-ah-ahhhhhh! Now w-here do you think you're go-oing?"

Stretching out his limbs, Fizz snaked out his arms and grabbed the man roughly, dragging him back up to the stage where he dumped him onto the ground and stomped one foot down onto his chest, pinning him in place, and taking special care to crack a few ribs as he did so. When the imp tried to squirm away, Fizz gathered the claws on his right hand into a point, all 5 facing with silent, deadly promise toward the man below him, hovering millimeters from a fear filled eyeball. "I-I want you to tell me who sent you!" He demanded.

"No one...no one did! We've just been tracking you all day! When Samara came running up asking anyone who'd listen where someone who fit your description ran off to, we tailed the both of you and waited for an opportunity. She's been with Fizzarolli until recently. We couldn't chance it until now!"

"Well it looks like your little gamble failed a-anyway. Whyyy-y do you k-know her name?!"

       The imp gulped. "Who doesn't know? In the underground it's very valuable information given how close she is to Mammon, Fizzarolli, and you. She was useful! And a lot of perverts wanted to collect one of Greed's most prized possessions."

       "Well-ll you fUCKed that up, d-didn't you?" Fizz snarled, pulling back his lips in a way that turned his normally cheerful clown-like face into a mask of fury.

"There. You got your answers now let me out of here!"

Fizz cocked his head and thought about it.

"HmmmMMmm okay!"

The imp's eyes widened and tears of relief flooded them.

"R-really?"

A gurgled yelp was the last sound to leave the imp looter when Fizz's metallic claws crushed his throat, the light fading quickly from his eyes. Fizz yanked him up by one of his belts and reared back, winding up his pitch and chucking the body clear through the far tent wall.

"There! I'm a man-n of my w-words! I let you out of the tent-t GET IT?! You ne-ever said it had to be ALIVE!"

He cackled cruelly, then his eyes drifted over to where Samara was still laying, prone and motionless on the floor. She'd been so terrified of the angels, of nonexistence. Why, why had she made the ultimate sacrifice for him?

Wait...

His senses picked up on something...soft, shallow breathing. She was still alive! He dropped down to his knees in front of her, ripping off a chunk of fabric from his hoodie. As soon as he rolled her over, he pressed it firmly to her neck. She might be hanging on now, but if he didn't stop this bleeding she'd never stand a chance! It soaked through almost immediately, but he kept holding it down.

      Shit, what am I gonna—

"Samara!"

The last voice he'd expected to hear pierced the night, just outside of the tent. It was filled with concern, and something else that made Fizz's servos hot with what he could only identify as jealousy. He heard them step over the imp's body outside and when the flaps opened once more, he saw one of the last people he'd wanted to. Staring back into his own face, Fizz ground out the words

"It's you."

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